


Deja Vu

by AltonaFalcon



Series: Jihyo x Tzuyu / Jitzu Oneshot Collection [8]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltonaFalcon/pseuds/AltonaFalcon
Summary: A midnight oneshot, inspired by Jihyo and Tzuyu's duo lines in the song 'Deja Vu'.





	Deja Vu

_“My eyes come in contact with you”_

_“It’s close to me”_

_“It’s only about us”_

_“You and me, Déjà vu”_

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Jihyo loved singing. She always did. Since childhood she had dreamt of being on stage, singing her heart out for the beloved audience that was screaming her name.

That’s why, despite the circumstances, she considered it incredibly lucky to get a job as a nightly bar singer. Of course, it was a far cry from her imagination- there weren’t that many people, and it wasn’t exactly appropriate to scream and shout her name. Still, it was a music club of considerable renown among true music lovers; and while the audience could never hope to reach that of a real stage, Jihyo was already having difficulties remembering all the faces of people who wanted to buy her drinks, rambling on about how much they loved her performance.

She had begun as a cash-strapped student, desperate to alleviate her financial hardship with effort alone. It was manual labor for her at first- waiting tables, laundry, all that stuff. But then, former employers of hers started to acknowledge her vocal abilities. They had come to admonish her rather negligent working style, but had stayed in stunned silence to behold the sight of an adorable singer, dancing twirling around whatever she had in hand whilst singing with a voice befitting of a goddess.

One thing happened after another, and before Jihyo knew it, she was offered a job where she could ‘shine the way she deserved to’, said one teary-eyed shop owner as they exchanged their farewell hugs.

Now, it had been three months since she last stepped onto the small, minimally-decorated stage, but the first of many to welcome her presence- at least, that was what Jihyo thought. She was nothing if not optimistic, for she believed only with a positive attitude could she go the distances she had strived for.

The first performance, Jihyo was nervous. Her voice quivered and shook under pressure. People had clapped politely, and she had felt beyond disappointed with herself.

Over time, she got used to being the center of attention. Over time, the support became increasingly wholehearted.

It had been two months since she received her first deafening round of applause.

It had been one month since she first received a bouquet from an admirer.

All of those, Jihyo now deemed a norm. Her talent was finally recognized, and she was happy.

Yet, in all those three months, something- someone- still remained as mysterious to her as the very first night.

Amidst the crowd stood a girl. Tall, slender and pretty, she stared at Jihyo with a penetrating gaze.

When the song was over, the girl smiled a beautiful smile.

And she clapped. Loudly.

She clapped the first time, when no one else did. And she clapped when everyone did all the same.

The sound of her applause always seemed to make its way through many of its kind, straight to Jihyo’s ears. It rang unique and affectionate.

So Jihyo made it a custom to go around the room to give high-fives to her enthusiastic listeners. She wanted to high-five the girl. She wanted, if just once, to make up for a half of what created that wonderful sound that had kept her going through the hard times.

Yet, the girl never returned her waiting arm. She walked right past it, trudging back to her single table slowly.

As if Jihyo had never been there in front of her.

Only on the third time her hand was ignored did Jihyo realize, through another customer’s sympathetic whispers, that the girl could not see.

______

“Blindsight?”

“Yes. I see you, but I can’t see you.”

Jihyo stared into the bright round irises, where reflections of light danced together merrily in a sparkling onyx background.

Of course, Jihyo wasted no time getting around to know the girl. Her admirer, whose name Jihyo now knew was Tzuyu, was overjoyed when the singer she so idolized approached her table and touched her hand. Then, upon Jihyo’s sheepish explanation, she profusely apologized, and thereby quickly confirmed the tragic insight.

Tzuyu seemed to sense Jihyo’s explanation, as she patiently turned sideways and brushed her long wavy hair aside, revealing a sizable scar that zigzagged from behind her right ear to the area just above her neck, finally hiding its end somewhere behind the silky tresses.

“I had an accident when I was thirteen. My eyes were fine, but my brain was damaged. It no longer processes visual information. I’m looking at you, but all I can see is a thick gray mist, if you will.”

Jihyo was at a loss for words.

“Tzuyu-ssi… I’m very sorry to hear that.” She decided to settle with the usual offer of condolences.

At this, Tzuyu’s hand started to feel around the table as if searching for something. Without hesitation, Jihyo quickly reached out and took the floundering hand in her own. Thankful for the assistance, Tzuyu tightened the hold and smiled.

“Please don’t be, Jihyo-ssi. It’s unfortunate, but it’s quite an adventure, I can assure you that.”

______

Time passed, and the girls became fast friends. Being a student with constant trouble with money, Jihyo hardly ever had time to spend to enjoy herself; any activity that involved hanging out with others was a luxury she could ill afford. As it stood, she had next to no friend. She had acquaintances at best, who were appreciative of her kind-hearted nature and therefore ready to help her out if needed. Nevertheless, there was no one she could really confide in, to share secrets, or simply to laugh together at simple dumb jokes.

That person, she found in Tzuyu.

Being the daughter of intellectual background, Tzuyu was quite keen on studying, especially when it concerned her own mishap. That said, along with joking and goofing around, they also spent a large portion of their time coming up with various different tests and observations, intent on exploring the depths of Tzuyu’s condition.

Their most significant discovery, after countless fruitless ventures, was that she could _feel_ certain things thanks to her brain adapting with its own malfunction. They had a mini-experiment that they developed themselves, whereby they could see if Tzuyu was really perceiving information in a different way than others. To Jihyo’s surprise, Tzuyu instinctively smiled when she put a picture of a cute puppy in front of her. Similarly, Tzuyu had felt a slight sense of fear and apprehension at one point, and Jihyo revealed she was showing her a scary picture of a ghost.

It had felt ecstatic. They thought of themselves as master scientists, on the cusp of unveiling an otherworldly mystery.

______

They now walked leisurely, hand in hand as per usual, along the riverside. Jihyo breathed in deeply, relishing in the cool fresh air. She had been straining her voice quite a bit lately, and Tzuyu insisted they took a day off.

“Do you want to sit down?” Catching sight of a lone bench, she asked her companion.

Tzuyu nodded. “You’re the leader, Jihyo-unnie. I follow what you do. Not like I can do anything else.” She said, amusement present in her melodic voice.

Jihyo sighed. “I told you to stop making self-deprecating jokes Tzuyu-ah. You know I can’t laugh at your condition.” It had been another month since their first meeting, and Jihyo still felt like she was walking on glass whenever the topic came up. Granted, Tzuyu had never taken offense to this, but Jihyo wouldn’t take any chances.

Over time, she had grown attached to the blind girl. A large part of this, Jihyo figured, was due to the fact that they were always holding hands whenever they met, since Jihyo did not feel right leaving Tzuyu maneuvering her way alone with the cane she had with her.

There have been instances where Jihyo woke up in the middle of the night, wondering why her hand felt empty and cold. Then reality would hit home, and she would sigh and go back to sleep, her mind lingering on the image of Tzuyu’s smile.

“Why should I though? Sometimes I feel like I know my way better than you do.” Jihyo scoffed. She could not, however, deny the truth; with all her time standing on stage she still could not get used to walking in high-heels, and she would trip every now and then, almost dragging a laughing Tzuyu down with her. Meanwhile, the younger girl somehow managed to detect obstacles on her path and miraculously stepped aside by pure instinct.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re truly blind. I bet you could run an obstacle course and not hit anything.” Tzuyu shrugged.

“I don’t know myself Jihyo-unnie. For me it’s like this: I’ll be walking and all of a sudden I’ll think ‘hm, there can be something here’ and I will step around that. And of course I can’t run, you dummy.” She lightly knocked on Jihyo’s knee with her white cane.

Jihyo giggled. She had taken to vocalizing her emotions more and more as per Tzuyu’s request, so that the other girl would always tell what she was feeling.

She wrapped her arm around Tzuyu and pulled themselves closer to one another. Their shoulders touched, and Jihyo could feel the warmth eclipsing the cool evening breeze.

Tzuyu rested her head on Jihyo’s shoulder, and Jihyo leaned to the side as well, her cheek brushing against her companion’s velvety hair.

“Tzuyu-ah?”

“Yes, Jihyo-unnie?”

“Do you think… One day you’ll see again?”

To anyone else, it would seem like Tzuyu started to snuggle closer into the crook of Jihyo’s neck, but in reality, it was a shake of denial.

“I don’t think so Jihyo-unnie, and I don’t care. My father works as a head doctor of a hospital, and he is always looking for a way to fix my sight.” Tzuyu raised her head to look at Jihyo, knowing the older girl was also staring at her. “I help him with experiments and research, sure. But if I’m to be honest, this is fascinating. I’m experiencing the world the way very few people do. It has been five years, and everyday I found out something new about myself.”

Taking a deep breath, Tzuyu continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Despite that, I enjoyed this last month more than ever.”

Her finger curled around Jihyo’s, and she said shyly. “Because I get to spend it with you.”

Then, Tzuyu closed her unseeing eyes.

Together, they had discovered how Tzuyu could still feel different emotions when her eyes looked at something, even if she could not register the image.

But right now, she needed not look at anything, for all the emotions she sought, she found with the sensation of Jihyo’s wonderfully soft lips pressing onto her own.

_____

Jihyo did not come on stage the next day.

Nor the day after.

On her third day of absence, she sent a message to the bar owner, promising her return tomorrow.

As she was bending over the sink and coughing out blood on the fourth day, she realized that the tomorrow she promised might never come.

_____

_ Six months later _

A motorcycle rushed through the empty streets, the stickers indicating a delivery vehicle for a fast food company.

After losing her ability to speak due to constantly straining her vocal cords until it refused to function, Jihyo lost her job as a singer, and along with it, her will to live.

She could never afford treatment for her own, and while she was quite popular in the bar it was nowhere near enough to get sponsorship of any kind. Her salary was generous, but still just a little more than enough to pay for her studies.

She was now back to jumping from one job to another, barely scraping by.

And of course, she stopped seeing Tzuyu.

Jihyo could not stand the irony, maintaining a relationship where one was blind and the other was mute. It was bound to end sooner or later, so Jihyo choose the cowardly way to simply cut off any contact. She stopped working for the bar, and since she never owned a cellphone, the only way for Tzuyu to keep in touch with her was terminated.

Be it as it might, it did not stop Jihyo from halting her motorbike, when she stared at a group of girls standing by the sidewalk.

Among that group, laughing and joking around, was Tzuyu. The old cane was no longer there, and when the light flashed green, Tzuyu was the first to stride across the street with confidence.

_Tzuyu has normal eyesight now. She can see again._

That night, Jihyo came home and cried herself to sleep. She cried happy tears for her Tzuyu. She cried devastated tears for their love, long gone and forgotten.

______

_ Six months later _

On the sound of the bell, Jihyo looked up. She immediately held up the small board that said “Hello, I’m sorry but I cannot speak. How may I help you?”

With a stroke of serendipity, she finally landed a stable job- a barista for a coffee shop, owned by one of her previous patrons. Upon recognizing her during one delivery trip and thereby discovered about her situation, he was quick to offer a place under his wings. Regardless of her muteness, he picked for her the highest paying position available. At first, customers found her means of communication quite strange, but no one ever voiced a complain when served by an incredibly beautiful barista that was also amiable and quick on her feet.

Jihyo wore her best smile to work everyday; after all, her life finally started to head somewhere better.

That was, until she saw the newly-arrived customer, who was the same person haunting her dreams every night and refused to leave.

The person that left her waking up at night, with empty cold hands.

Chou Tzuyu stood in front of her, dazzling as ever.

The girl tilted her head when she saw the board, her face donning an unreadable expression. “Hello there.”

They stared at one another in silence. Jihyo tried her hardest not to show any emotions, despite her insides roaring for her to step out of the counter and embrace the love of her life.

She pointed to the board in front of her once more, as if impatient for Tzuyu to start ordering.

The younger girl, however, did not stop staring. She searched through every inch of Jihyo’s face. The innocent eyes. The squishy cheeks. The full red lips.

Then, she said.

“Could I have a venti, half-whole milk, one quarter 1%, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots (1 1/2 shots decaf, 2 1/2 shots regular), no foam latte, with whip, 2 packets of splenda, 1 sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and 3 short sprinkles of cinnamon?”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. She scribbled on the board and showed it to Tzuyu.

“That will take a while, Miss. Please wait for a few minutes.”

Reading the sentence, Tzuyu replied nonchalantly. “Sure, I can wait, thank you. I need to have a talk with someone here too.”

“Thank you.” Normally such outrageous requests would just be ignored and Jihyo would bring a normal coffee instead, but this time, the thought never crossed her mind. She turned on her backs, determined to make Tzuyu her drink.

“You know, I used to know someone.” She heard Tzuyu’s voice from behind. Looking behind, Jihyo found out that the girl was still standing there, looking straight at her. There was no one nearby, nor was there a phone in her hand.

Still, there was no indication that Tzuyu was talking to her, so she turned back to coffee making.

“I used to be blind, so I never knew what she looked like. But I know she was beautiful. She has the sweetest voice, like sugarcane juice. Like honeyed candy. Her hand was small and warm. She was intelligent and clever.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“I loved her so much. I still do. Something must have happened to her, because she abandoned her dream to be a singer and disappeared. I suspect she strained her voice so much, she lost it altogether. I’ve looked everywhere for her. But I can’t find her with my eyes. Because they never know her image.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“We used to test a lot of things with my blindsight. We discovered that I can feel different emotions while looking at things, even if I don’t know what it is I’m looking at.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“I thought about it, and it’s probably also the reason for déjà vu to happen. Do you know déjà vu? It’s when you feel like something has happened before, but you can’t remember when or where.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“I feel a wave of déjà vu when I see you. I feel the hand holding mine. I feel the warmth next to me. I feel the person I love. I have never seen her before, but my heart has.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“And it wants her back.”

Jihyo did not turn around.

“So please Jihyo-unnie, stop crying and look at me.”

Dropping everything she was holding in her hands, Jihyo rushed out from the counter, into Tzuyu’s open arms. She buried her face into Tzuyu’s shirt, soaking it with tears the moment it touched the fabric- she had been crying ever since Tzuyu started talking without realizing it herself.

After six months, Jihyo shed tears again. She shed tears of loneliness, of hardships, of broken dreams.

But above all, she shed tears of joy.

Because Tzuyu was here.

 


End file.
